what do i look like
went to the bank this morning. . .
teller: hi ma'am, i can help you here.
V: thanks. . do i look like a ma'am?
teller: um, no?
V: ha ha ha. i'm just giving you a hard time.
inside, i'm freaking out that i am starting to look old. . i hardly get carded anymore. . even though i feel like i look pretty much the same way that i did in high school- albeit better sense of style and changes in my hair color! sigh. . 30 is just a hop skip and a jump away.
1 comment:
Oooh MAN, don't get me STARTED!
Other than your knees, you don’t sound to me like you’ve started feeling the little aches and pains here and there. Those start in your thirties! I take pretty good care of myself, but I get them!
The hair, I’m not even going there!
The screwy sleep cycle? Hon, I used to sleep like a l... like cordwood! Now I’m up to pee at 2:00, or just plain ol’ wide awake at 4:15. That starts in your thirties! The fun of it!
The work load? You don’t know the definition of “work” until you’re in your thirties. The schooling, the sharing apartments, the parties, the dating scene - it’s aaaall over: now you’ll buy a home, get married, raise kids and possibly get a career happening? It all starts in your thirties! Your free time is over! You had it, hope you enjoyed it, cuz it’s never gonna be about YOU anymore!
The worrying that maybe your dad was right? I INVENTED tree-hugging and live-and-let-live and make love not war and I FOUNDED the Democratic party and I marched for a nation, now I’m a card-carrying GOP backer who hides in his basement with a shotgun to off me some commie homosexual - that starts in your thirties!
The guilt over that last cigarette, yellowing teeth, wrinkling skin, maybe I shouldn’t have that second Martini, it’s past my bedtime - I gotta get to work in the morning, Oh my dear God I DO have a soul, I’m going to hell! Can’t get a babysitter, can’t leave Junior, haven’t had ess-ee-ex in weeks, too tired to do it, what do you mean they’re jacking up our insurance premium? Yes - that starts now!
I’ll pray for you young Jedi. You’re a shoo-in, a prime candidate to ace the big bad thirties. You’re strong, healthy, pretty and ... (ambitious?) Turns out, or so I’m told, that once you hit 40, you’re home-free and you can begin to enjoy life again. Phew! Three years to go here! Oh shoot - we’re pregoes again, I just moved everything back another three years!
It’s actually not all that bad. Sometimes...
:)
Post a Comment